The Doctor Will See You Now
by Rufus T. Serenity
Summary: Instead of taking the teens to Greece after London, Chris brings the nine remaining contestants of TDWT to an abandoned asylum in a island near Nova Scotia. But as they do another challenge, they and their host start to discover a darker and deadly side to the seemingly abandoned asylum. Will be rated M later for gruesome character deaths.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes: Hello everyone. Well, its new story time again! **

**Here's the plot. After the challenge in London during TDWT, Chris doesn't take the teens to Area 52. Instead, he takes them to a small island off of the coast of Nova Scotia. The reason is because all that's on the lifeless island is an asylum that has been abandoned since the 1940s because of a very nasty incident. But both he and the teens don't know how bad, bad enough for those who died here to come back from the grave and start picking them off one by one as darker truths exists as well. Along with Chris, Chef, and their interns; Alejandro, Cody, Courtney, Duncan, Gwen, Heather, Owen, Sierra, and Tyler will all struggle to escape this nightmare. **

**This story is a request from ****The Samurai Prince, who gave me the basic idea for the setting and plot. In fact, he said what he pitched to me is based off of the 1999 remake of the 1959 film, "House on Haunted Hill". I have seen neither film. So, instead I'm just mostly making this apply to the basic summary he gave me since it gives me the chance to a Total Drama ghost story. **

**Given that I currently have five on-going stories and that none of them are close to finished, adding another one onto that seems like madness. Most likely because it is. **

**To be honest, I've been sitting on this chapter and the first one for "Three Tests of Valor" for a little while now because I had written them but had no intention of doing the next chapter anytime soon. But I got tired of just letting them go to waste. Despite the sheer madness of it, I posted two new stories within twenty-four hours. **

**But, insert clever if somewhat forced transition here, that's fitting for this story. **

**You see, my main inspiration, after the story was suggested to me, and ultimately the main reason I agreed to start this story now despite every bastion of logic saying not to, are the writings of H.P. Lovecraft. Seriously, no Lovecraft, no this story. That's how much influence his works have on this story…and honesty, me as a writer. Similar to Alan Moore, Dante Alighieri, George Orwell, and Edgar Allen Poe, I'm extremely doubtful that I would currently be writing anything or (arguably) writing it so well without my love and respect for H.P. Lovecraft's work. **

**So, what is it about Lovecraft's writings that I like so much? Well, firstly, the man knows how to establish atmosphere and describe things! Seriously, a good chuck of any Lovecraft story is him describing the setting or particular, often alien, objects. But those are easily the best parts because the way he does it is so mesmerizing. There's something about his word choices and overall hopeless tone that just works. Secondly, I'm a fan of the core idea behind them. This requires a bit of explanation. Most of Lovercraft's stories fit within a literary canon called "The Cthulhu Mythos." The gist is that there are ancient forces far grander and older than we can logically understand. All of humanity is of no importance in the great scheme of the universe. We are ultimately little more than fleas when compared to the Old Ones, the indescribable monstrosities that created and continue to shape existence. Many of Lovecraft's stories are about scholars discovering twisted perversions of natural laws connected to these Old Ones that result in insanity, death, or both. **

**And of those fates, the second one is particularly relevant. The reason? This is the first story where I'm flat out telling you, there is going to be character death. "Mad Mikey" and "Total Drama Raptured" might or might not have character death but if they do, I'm not telling you. But here, I will say that most, if not all, of the teens will end up dead after suffering horrific and savage deaths. The story won't be rated M until the bodies start hitting the floor but know that it is coming. **

**Here's the first chapter of "The Doctor Will See You Now": Prelude to the Pain**

* * *

Far off of the coast of Nova Scotia there was an island. For sixty years, few went to it.

This place was the sight of a great uttering of woe. Much pain and death happened here. Even though it was largely only known to few remaining inhabits of the run-down fishing town this was a place that almost not a single soul ventured onto ever since 1946. The few travelers and visitors of the town who had briefly heard of it were persuaded from not going there once they knew the full history of this indescribably ominous feeling isle.

Even if the history of the island wasn't enough, learning of it current state certainly did. Though not a very large place, its entire surface with the expectation of two buildings was completely covered in untamed forestland with no known unique landmarks. It would take much to be wandering around endlessly in the mazes of pine trees' bark, overgrown grass' flimsy emerald curtains and catbriers' interlocking vines of thorns. On all sides the island was uninviting, with a Cliffside of rocks so jagged that they could have been mistaken for steak knives made of stone and blades made of boulders. And that wasn't accounting for the conditions of the two only examples of man's influence. Though unquestionably grand in scale and still often breathtaking in their artistic merits, the two buildings were the victims of decay, slowly crumbling under time's slow advance. Dust and dirt covered many of the surfaces that were originally very sanitary. The few wild beasts that inhabited this isle's forestry had used bits of the buildings as toilets. While some of the structures were shockingly stable after the many years, some were dangerously dilapidated, to the point of being lethal, of easily maiming and killing.

So, for many reasons before moral and practical, none should have set foot on this island.

* * *

"I tella ya, bra! This old, run down island is the perfect place for a episode of TDWT!" Chris MacLean, a man for whom the definitions of moral and practical were barely known, exclaimed excitedly.

"I ain't so sure?" Chef, a man who was a stark contrast to Chris at least as far as practical and occasionally moral was concerned, questions. "For one thang, this place's got six floors. How are we gonna get this place set up with the camera equipment in time?"

"That's easy." Chris says with a dismissive hand wave. "We won't be coming here till after London. That's only a few episodes before the merge. We'll have plenty of time. Besides, we can use the mansion next door as our base of operations while we send those meat bags, uh I mean contestants, in to explore this dangerous, falling apart asylum!"

"And that's another thing, Pretty Boy. Of all the abandoned asylums, why this one?"

"And what, pray tell, is wrong with this particular abandoned asylum?"

"For starters, this place don't feel quite right. I mean the first five floors had reasons for 'em to be here. But this one? Even with the equipment, it's more like a Satanist's den." Chef says as he swings out his arm, encouraging Chris to observe this sixth floor again.

With a roll of the eyes, the handsome yet vain host of Total Drama did just that. Though he'd never admit it, this place, this floor, did feel slightly more ominous than the others. True to the Black Cook's word, there were some surgical tools, what was in the 1940s modern medical equipment, and even a few operating tables in this musky atmosphere. But those weren't the most unsettling of the features. Many others tied for that position. Along some of the moldy brick walls were slots meant for chains, to chain someone up to the wall. There were several small spaces, barely big enough for two average sized people, carved into the stone of the island itself with by now rusted metal bars blocking the openings. Some fairly rotten wooden cabinets contained jars and containers of every size and shape housing materials those identities could not be easily or quickly realized.

But those weren't what inspired the most worry in Chef. That went to the centerpiece.

At the center of this lowest level was a glass sphere. In height and width it was roughly the same scale as half of a grown man. It was balanced on a weirdly designed pedestal. Extending from this pedestal were four curved pieces of metal, resembling a bird's talon, which wrapped around the glass sphere and held it in place. Though they were at one time strong, immaculate silver, the pedestal's talon was now heavily rusted and weak. If one were asked to say what color this sphere was, they would have very difficult time. For contained within the glass orb was something barely noticeable…but unnerving. Whatever it was within this sphere was part of some strange color spectrum. It was nearly impossible to describe; and it was only by analogy that it could be called a color at all.

Surrounding the glass orb of an unnamable color on the pedestal for about three inches from every angle was a circle of black sand, forming a perfect circle of ghastly grains. Encased within this shadowy sand circle were a series of symbols unknowable to most. There were two groupings of these unreadable words moving in opposite directions. It appeared as if the same exact precision that went into the circle itself went into making sure that these carefully created calligraphies did not breach the circle's black border.

"I will say this much," Chris says looking at the sphere within breathing distance of it. "The head doc here must have had some very weird hobbies that he kept a secret. I mean, if Jerd knew about this when he told me about this dump, I bet he'd have mentioned it."

Chris then became fascinated by the most beautiful thing in the world…his own reflection. Marveling at it even as the curved nature of the glass sphere and unknowable color made seeing it difficult, Chris noticed a spot of his lunch on his pristine teeth. Using his tongue, he removed the unwanted piece of food. His vain smile reflected in the glass.

Moving just a step closer, he than tapped the sphere, half tempted to knock it over.

"Boy! Will you cut that crap out!?" Chef shouts, noticeably unnerved now.

"Alright, alright, sheesh! Chillax, bro." Chris says, staying here he is but no longer touching the glass ball. He turns to Chef. "What's got your undies in a bunch, eh?"

"I just don't think we should be messin' with this place. Some of the fish-people shore side told me some stories 'bout this place and I don't think we should be filmin' here." Chef says, very convinced about him being right on this. **[1]**

Chris didn't agree. "Tch!" He scoffed. "Really? Were listening to a bunch of likely in-bred locals who's fishing business died out decades ago? And what did they say, uh?" **[2]**

"They said that over sixty years ago the guy who ran this place was worse than the patients. He did all kinds of really nasty stuff to the inmates. Got so bad that there was an inmate revolt. Killed the head doc, his wife, and the staff. Then they killed themselves. The revolt started 'round nine at night and by mornin' no one was alive on this island."

"Really? Everybody here died all at once?" Chris says, rubbing his chin in thought. "Interesting. I might have to learn a bit more about this. Now I know we gotta use here! It's practically a rating's net! And since no one knows about this place, it'll make the ratings even better. Everyone and their grandmother will want to know about this place!"

"All that considered, I still say we shouldn't use this place. They said other things too."

"Like what!?" Chris loudly whines.

"Well…they said that sometimes they saw things on the island from the shore. Things that look like people but have this weird pale glow to them. You know…like…ghosts."

"Really? Ghosts? Were not leaving it open for more plausible options like the Great Pumpkin or the Flying Spaghetti Monster? Why don't we just give Cthulhu a call?" Chris asks with a raised eyebrow and the most smugness he could pack into his voice.

"Don't you be disrespectin' Cthulhu!?" Chef loudly and angrily proclaims. "All I'm sayin' is that we shouldn't film here and if we do I'll wager they'll be a high price to pay! And seein' how cheap you often are, I doubt you'd be willin' to pay it." Chef then leaves, traveling up the only stone stairway that connects this sixth level to the fifth level above.

"Pfft…what the heck do you know? This location will make the ratings this year killer!" You hear me Chef!?" Chris says as he starts to travel up the stairs after the Black Cook. "It's gonna make this place a killer!"

* * *

As his last words echoed in the lifeless lowest level, Chris followed Chef out of the asylum. He couldn't have known that this would be the last time he'd ever leave it.

It made no difference really if he had been told about the legends of this place before. He wouldn't have heeded the warnings. He would have dismissed the legends as nonsense.

It would have made no difference whether he knew that the circle of black sand were said to be a imprisonment that was never to be touched, that even a single sooty spec out of place might weaken its bindings enough for something not meant for our world to escape.

It would have made no difference if you had told him that it was sand circle was magic. Chris wouldn't have noticed. He doesn't believe in magic.

If you had told him, he still would have driven his foot into the circle of sooty sands. The only difference would have been that instead of ignorance and fascination with the crystal ball, Chris would have been a desire to spite whoever had seemed to believe in these kinds of silly ghost stories. After all, they were just stories, fantasies and nothing more….

Right?

With no one here, an answer was given.

The sphere, the centerpiece of this asylum's innermost and deepest level, had changed.

The color lacking context or comparison to any of the pigments or shades of the Earth oscillated, very slightly morphing into around its rim into all new unknowable colors.

As it did, the words of Chris MacLean could still be faintly heard within a dying echo.

"_It's gonna make this place a killer!" _

* * *

**And that's the first chapter of "The Doctor Will See You Now". I hope you liked it.**

**Anyway, I have two things to say before the footnotes and the standard sum-up. **

**One, if you have any interest in learning more about the writing of Lovecraft, I can recommend two great places to go. The first is a documentary called "****Lovecraft: Fear of the Unknown". It's a decent summary of the man's life, personality, and some of his greatest works. I only knew a little about Lovecraft before watching this but afterwards I knew a lot more. If you're interested, the whole film's on Youtube. The second is the website "Dagonbytes", which has all of Lovecraft's stories available for your viewing pleasure for free. It also has Frankenstein, Dracula, The Picture of Dorian Gary, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Phantom of the Opera, and all the works of Edgar Allen Poe. It's a one-stop shop for classic gothic literature!**

**Two, it will likely be a LONG time before I update this story! I'm sorry to say that, in particular to The Samurai Prince, but this story and "Three Tests of Valor" are at the very bottom of my by now quite big list of yet to be finished fan-fictions. **

**[1] The term "fish-people" is a reference to the H.P. Lovecraft story "The Shadow Over Innsmouth". Here's a hint as to what it means in that story, the idea behind that term is far more literal. **

**[2] This is a reference to the fact that many Canadian, and American, fisheries have been in a state of decline and even death since roughly the 1980s. The reason why I know this is because of Mark Kurlansky's book "Cod: A Biography of the Fish that Changed the World." Yes, somebody write a biography about a fish. And you know the crazy part…its actually enjoyable to read and interesting!? I know, I wouldn't have believed it either but a book about codfish was very funny and quite good. **

**Until the next chapter, whenever it might be, please: ****read, review, alert, favor, and spread the word!**


	2. Establishments of the Eldritch

**Author's Notes: Hello everyone! Here is the next chapter of my TD ghost story! **

**Sorry this took a while but my graduate classes this semester have been very involving and they've only just started. Why, before uploading this chapter, I've already read over a hundred and fifty pages from five different sources. And that's not including the four writing assignments that I still need to done this week. **

**But enough about that; let's get to the chapter at hand. As the title suggests, it is about establishments, both in terms of the characters and the setting's history. **

**I'd like to correct a mistake that I made in the intro author's notes last time. I said this challenge replaced the one in Area 52 when it's actually replacing the one in Greece. I have no idea why I imagined the challenge after London was Area 52. **

**Be thankful that the character death hasn't begun yet, the key word being…yet. ;) **

**Also, the irony of posting a chapter for what will soon become a horror story with violent death on Valentine's Day is completely unintentional but savored nonetheless. :) **

**Since I'm very eager to get this chapter started already…let's get it started already! **

**Here's the second chapter of "The Doctor Will See You Now": Establishments of the Eldritch**

* * *

Outside of the Total Drama Jumbo Jet a storm is howling into the endless night sky. Groans of thunder and tears of rain gave the blackness the character of a grieving widow.

Flashes of lightning flood the classes of the Jumbo Jet, imparting upon person and object alike long, creeping shadows, that only adds to the usual abysmal atmosphere.

But oddly for the cast of Total Drama, the storm outside didn't reflect the teen's moods. Well, at least not most of them.

And what made this relative, mostly collective, calm all the more shocking was the uniqueness of today's challenge. The teens had been told in at advance after leaving London that the challenge afterwards would also take place at night. The prospect of another night challenge should have made the teens even more annoyed to be here. Despite that, having nearly a whole twenty-four hours without any challenges or annoyances was deemed as a good thing by all nine of the remaining teenagers.

It was an even better thing for Team Amazon, who spent all of that time in First Class.

The greatest example of the relatively good cheer on Team Amazon came from two girls, Courtney and Gwen, sitting on one of the couches of First Class.

"Oh! He looks so good. Doesn't he look good?" Courtney, who was sitting on her knees on the couch, asks Gwen while her voice was unusually light and joyful. She was still riding off of the high of Duncan rejoining the game after finding him back in London.

"He looks great. I'm so happy. Uh…" Gwen, who was sitting normally on the same couch, says before pausing. After a look of fright, she adds, "…for you! Happy for you!"

Courtney, in her happiness about having Duncan back, didn't notice the look of fright. "Don't get me wrong, he isn't perfect." The C.I.T then reaches into her chest area and, to Gwen's shock, pulls out a small square of folded up paper. "I made a little list of the things that need to change. But once I change these…"

The mocha-skinned girl then opens up the paper, revealing it to be as tall as she was. While doing so, she adds, "…forty seven things about him…" Gwen, who had her arms placed in front of her body as if defending herself, has a look of worry on her pale face. And that look increased when Courtney's own face, looking oddly mad, appears at the top of the opened up paper and declares, "…he will be perfect!"

* * *

**CONFESSIONAL**

(Static)

"I have to say, I'm owning this season as much as I should have owned the first two." Courtney says, looking unusually happy. "I mean, let's go over the reasons why that is."

The C.I.T. then pulls another folded up square of paper from her shirt at the breasts. After unfolding it, the piece of paper takes up the full field of sight of the confessional camera.

"One, while Team Amazon has had its ups and downs, we have been proven as the superior team. Then again, how couldn't we be with me on the team since the start? Ha, ha. Two, I finally got the chance to give that B-I-T-C-H Heather some much deserved payback for whipping me in the Yukon by getting her very acquainted with the Rack. Three, I've think I've found a worthy ally in Gwen of all people. Who could have guessed? But yes, she's smart, tough, and actually has a mostly agreeable personality. And finally, Duncan came back into the game after almost half a season of being out!"

Courtney then folds the piece of paper and returned it to an area likely next to her bra, only now actually being visible to the camera for the first time since taking the paper out.

"Honestly, just having both Gwen and Duncan on my side would be enough. They are two of the most successful players in the previous seasons and they are still going strong. Us making it to the final three is a certainty. For once, my strategy is entirely full-proof!" The C.I.T. says to the camera with a normally unheard of cheerful and full smile.

(Static)

"Uh! What am I doing!?" Gwen nearly shouts in confusion while she is holding her head.

The Goth then faces the camera with her hands on the confessional's sink and her elbows bend as she is leaning onto it. "The moment I finally become," Gwen says looking off to the right while not turning her head, "friend-ish with Courtney…I kiss her boyfriend!"

She then looks dead straight into the camera with her eyes as wide as they can be while she leans onto the sink even more. Then she covered her face with her hands while saying, "I'm a horrible person!" The Goth uncovers her face with her hands. "I don't know how things with Duncan will go. I'm so torn! If it happens again, I'll tell her."

Then Gwen looks like she realizes something. "But wait…Courtney had a list of changes. She wants to change Duncan instead of just accepting him for who he is. Is that right? No, it isn't. Besides, I don't think her and Duncan are even technically dating. He never said he was currently dating her before he got booted off in Egypt. Maybe Courtney is just projecting what she wants to be reality onto a situation when it's not the truth?" Gwen says slowly, like she's piecing together as she's saying it. Then she declares boldly, "Maybe there's nothing wrong with me kissing Duncan in London and liking it!?"

Despite the volume of her voice, the second she's done speaking Gwen looks unsure.

(Static)

**END OF CONFESSIONAL**

* * *

Becoming increasingly unnerved by the conversation about Duncan, Gwen stands up without any previous indication.

"Gwen?" Courtney asks, visibly surprised by the Goth's sudden action.

"Uh…sorry, Court. I gotta hit the can. Right now!" Gwen says before slightly darting off.

In her hope to escape Courtney for the time being, the Goth ran into something. Not caring what she bumped into, Gwen stood up fast and wiped the white dust off of her black and dark blue clothing. But she doing so…the something speaks to her.

"What the hell's gotten into you, Wired Goth Girl!? Weren't you told to watch where you're going when you were a child? Or were you hatched from an egg or something?"

Looking at the source of the insults, the Goth saw a sadly all too familiar sight. The taller Queen Bee of Asian descent was standing there with her arms crossed, her piercing grey eyes, and a scowl etched onto her face. But this was the norm, for Heather, anyway.

Normally Gwen would have fired off a catty, sarcastic comeback and started an argument. But right now she wasn't in the mood and just darted right past Heather.

"Hey! What's the matter, Gwen? Finally realized you can't compete with me?" Heather asks mockingly as she sees the Goth running down First Class towards the bathroom.

When Heather turns around, she sees a blazing pair of onyx eyes starting into hers. Almost anyone else would have cringed at seeing Courtney so angry so close. Heather didn't flinch. "Let me guess? Me messing with your new gal pal's got you crossed?"

Courtney didn't answer, instead merely glaring at Heather even more intensely.

Also in repetition was Heather being unfazed by the soul-crushing stare of anger. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I would say that she was eager to get away, **from you.** Maybe its not as rosy perfect in your friendship paradise as you'd like to think, eh?"

It took every ounce of restraint that Courtney had to not smack that ignorant grin off of Heather's face. In fact, the only reason why she doesn't is because she has another idea. The scowl on Courtney's face melts away and is replaced by a rarely seen smirk.

"It doesn't matter what you think. The proof will be in the pudding, and your elimination. Whenever we lose, if we do, you'll have no one to turn to. And if you try anything, both Gwen and me have at least one buffer vote against you. Adding on top of that that you're not exactly Miss Universally Loved Amazon Teammate…your days here are numbered."

A look of horror forms on Heather's face…before it transforms into one of anger.

With a bitter harrumph, Heather walks past Courtney since she lacks a rebuttal…for now.

"Hey, if the thought of being eliminated is making you stressed, you could always try some relaxing stretches…on a Rack!" Courtney mockingly shouts before laughing.

Seeing the Queen Bee walking away in defeat, Courtney continued to grin in victory. Even though her eyes occasionally found themselves drawn to Gwen's direction.

* * *

**CONFESSIONAL **

(Static)

"Um? I wonder what got into Gwen? I don't now why but it seemed like she was rushing away for reasons other than just to use the bathroom." Courtney asks, tapping her chin with one of her mocha fingers. "I hope nothing's wrong my new alliance member. Maybe telling her that I plan to boot off Heather if we lose today's challenge will help her out?"

(Static)

"Grrr! Wired Goth Girl and the B-I-T-C-H are so getting thrown out at 30,000 feet! They will pay for stretching on that Rack! **They will pay!**" Heather shouts in violent rage.

Then, the Queen Bee regains control of herself and says with her cold, calculating voice, "But its not going to be easy. Soon Gwen and Courtney will be all but joined at the hip. And to make matters worse, they are a very competent team. It's going to be a challenge. Even so, I think I have a plan for how to deal with it. For reasons I can't explain yet, Gwen looked oddly uncomfortable when talking about Duncan. I don't know why but if I can uncover the reason, it might prove to be an effective wedge. Even so, I'm not about to put all of my eggs in one basket. Maybe there are some other things I can do as well?"

She then taps her chin with one of her thin and finely pedicured fingernails.

(Static)

**END OF CONFESSIONAL**

* * *

Heather walks down First Class in the other direction until she hears a loud noise.

"Cody! Where are you? Mama has not seen you in over seven minutes! That's so long!" A sadly familiar voice to the Queen Bee screeches.

Heather groans and rubs her head hearing Sierra shout again. While she didn't care one way or the other about her and Cody, she did care about her eardrums, which had been assaulted with Sierra's screeches since the first day of Total Drama World Tour.

As she is doing so, a super-manic and worried Cody came darting right in front of her. His huge teal eyes are frantically searching First Class for some area to hide himself.

Heather knew that if Sierra found Cody, then she would have to listen to hours worth of that psycho going off about how Cody was Jesus bloody Christ. She wouldn't allow that.

Thinking fast, Heather opens up one of the overhead luggage compartments. After that, she grabs Cody by his shirt collar, easily lifting the lightweight Geek into the air. Even the flailing of his arms and confusion exclamations didn't lessen her grip on him at all.

The only response Cody got from Heather is a blunt and nasty sounding, "Shut up."

Without warning, Heather throws Cody right into the opened overhead luggage compartment and shuts the opening before he can escape!

The second after Heather did so and starts leaning on the luggage compartment opening, Sierra came running by like a speeding bullet of tan and purple. The Queen Bee didn't have the time to process this before Sierra is standing right in front of her!

"Heather, Heather, Heather!" Sierra shouts without being able to control herself.

"Yes, that's my name. I happen to know that already!" Heather says, very annoyed.

"Heather, have you seen him!?" Sierra shouts panicking, completely ignoring Heather. "I haven't seen my precious Cody-Wody in eight minutes now! That's nearly a lifetime!"

"That's actually a little less than a lifetime."

"Have you seen him? Do you know which way he went!?"

"Yeah, I do. I think I saw him heading towards the Economy Class."

"I'm coming Cody!" Sierra shouts as loud as she can before running towards Economy.

After making sure that Sierra is long gone, Heather opens up the luggage compartment. When she does, Cody comes falling out with a high-pitched scream.

Cody stands up and dusts himself off before turning to Heather and looking stunned. The Queen Bee was unsure about what to do, not knowing what Cody's deal currently was.

The answer came to her was Cody gave her a hug that could rival Sierra's in tightness! While doing so, completely by accident, Cody's face is putting in face in-between Heather's boobs. But what shocks Heather even more than that is Cody's words.

"Oh, thank you, Heather! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are officially the greatest girl who has ever or will ever exist next to Gwen!"

* * *

**CONFESSIONAL**

(Static)

"Between what happened with Harold during Total Drama Island and now this with Cody…are the pathetic losers of the Earth the only ones that my chest can attract!?" Heather nearly shouts in anger and confusion.

(Static)

**END OF CONFESSIONAL**

* * *

The twin shocks of his face in her boobs and the unheard of words of sincere praise cause Heather to freeze. But after she regains control of herself, she pushes Cody away.

Glaring as intensely as she could, Heather stares at the now frightened Tech Geek. "If you ever put your face between my boobs again, I'll castrate you with a dull rusty knife! Understand!?"

Cody nods his head so fast it almost resembles a blur. After he does so, noticing that Heather for some reason was still standing their with her arms crossed over her chest, Cody says, "Uh…sorry Heather, that was an honest-to-god accident. I swear to God!"

"For your sake, I hope you right!"

Despite finding himself afraid, Cody asks, "B-But why did you do that, anyway?"

"I wasn't up for listening to a few hours of your number one psycho fan gush over you." Heather answers, honestly and lacking any warmth in her voice. "Hopefully her searching every nook and cranny of the Economy Class for your scrawny ass will keep her out of my hair for the remainder of the flight so I can actually enjoy the perks of First Class."

"Ah…I see." Cody says before showing a smile. "Well, whatever the reason, thanks. What you did now is more than anyone else has done to help me with Sierra. If you need anything from me, aside from voting off Gwen or myself, consider it done, Heather."

Heather isn't sure how to respond to that. Luckily for her, a loud "Gah!" filled the air. Recognizing the voice of the person, Cody quickly darts off after the source of the sound. Cody rushes off to help Gwen.

While Cody was leaving her, Heather stands there, pondering. Then, she starts to smile.

* * *

**CONFESSIONAL**

(Static)

"Just when you think you've got someone figured out, they turn around and surprise you. Take Heather, for example, when she saved me from Sierra." Cody says to the camera. "But maybe it's not so shocking? I mean, sure, Heather can be super nasty. Even so, she has been pretty good to me overall this season. Maybe she's turned over a new leaf?"

(Static)

"Ha, ha, ha! Oh, yes! Its perfect! Cody, the key to my victory is Cody! Ha, ha, ha!" Heather says after laughing in a very unsettling way. She then looks at the camera. "Confused? Let me explain, since I want this recorded for posterity."

She composes herself before starting to explain her new master plan. "Cody would likely chew his own arm off like a trapped coyote to get away from Sierra. Sometime soon, I'll make a deal with Cody; if he and Sierra vote with me against Courtney, I'll convince Gwen to help him and me vote off Sierra by pinning the idea of booting off the C.I.T on her. Since Courtney has done nothing but belittle the Geek at every turn, that reasoning would be believable enough. Plus it will give the Runt even more incentive aside from the promise of getting rid of Sierra for good. With the merge coming up anytime now, I won't have to worry about Gwen's wrath if she discovers the truth. And if she doesn't, I'll be able to ensure Cody's loyalty by the threat of revealing the truth to his crush. With Cody's vote in my pocket and a few other less reliable alliances with members of Team Chris, I should be able to reach the finale! Even Alejandro won't survive my grand plan!"

Heather than starts to cackle madly as the sounds of the outside thunder roars behind her.

(Static)

**END OF CONFESSIONAL**

* * *

After the commotion of Sierra's running towards Economy Class, where she still is, First Class appears to become calm and quiet…until Heather and Courtney start arguing again.

Given that neither girl has much experience or interest in backing down, it lasts awhile.

Oddly, one member of Team Amazon is ok with this. Even more oddly, it's Gwen.

The Goth is currently taking part in a favorite activity of hers, staring out a rainy window on a stormy night, and seeing the clear rain drops emerge from the charnel blackness.

She doesn't want to admit it but her guilt over her kissing Duncan is eating her up inside. Ever been the skilled cynic, she is running through all of the possible scenarios that could play out if her team had discovered the truth…and they all are not good ones.

The Goth is so lost in these thoughts that she doesn't notice the person who is now sitting next to her, who had seen her troubled expression from the opposite window seat. Even with this person next to her, Gwen doesn't notice them until they tap her shoulder.

Snapping out of her trance, Gwen looks to her side to see Cody seating next to her.

Acting on instinct, the Goth glares at the Geek. Though he writhes a little in his seat, Cody remains. Summoning up what little courage he possesses, Cody asks Gwen, "Uh, hey Gwen. Ha, ha. So, um…uh, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong Cody! I'm just hunky dory! Everything is just so goddamn peachy it might as well be a freakin' peach tree!" Gwen snaps bitterly and bluntly in annoyance.

The stare Gwen sends Cody after her words would normally send him darting away. But to Gwen's annoyance, Cody remains sitting next to her, though he's now fidgeting.

With great difficulty, Cody again gathers up his courage as he honestly but softly mutters, "It doesn't sound like it."

The Goth continues to stare at the Geek, though now her gaze isn't quite an intense. Even so, Cody had reached the limit of the uncomfortableness he could take in one sitting. With that in mind, he stands up and says, "Sorry for bothering you, Gwen. I'll leave you alone so you can think and-"

"Wait." Gwen says, interrupting Cody. "Please don't go yet."

To say that the Tech Geek was shocked would be the understatement of the millennium. In all of the time that he had knew Gwen, the Goth had never asked him to stay with her. And the only person who was more shocked by what Gwen had said was Gwen herself. If asked, she likely wouldn't have been able to give a straight answer as to why she said that. But the truth was, she was lonely. Though Courtney was a friend, the recent developments with Duncan made it feel almost as awkward as her "relationships" with Heather and Sierra. In short, Gwen was getting desperate for true companionship, even if it was with Cody.

Even so, Gwen had to know something that had been bugging her for quite some time. Though a part of her wants to confess what had happened with Duncan in London, instead Gwen asks, "Why Cody? Why do you insist so strongly on being friends with me when I've waved you away at every turn?"

Hearing this deeply stuns Cody; even so, what he ends up asking Gwen back with, "What's this all about?"

"Please just answer the question, ok!?" Gwen says feeling even more embarrassed about asking him.

Seeing that embarrassment, Cody decides that he should this question and hope that Gwen will answer his afterwards. "Well, there's a lot of reasons, I guess." Cody starts to rub the back of his neck because of some embarrassment of his own. "But if I had to sum it up simply, I'd say its because I think you're a great girl and just a overall cool person."

"I don't think I could ever be considered "a great girl and just overall cool person"." Gwen says, sounding sad.

"I greatly disagree. After all, your beautiful, strong, smart, artistic, persistent, passionate, and I can keep going if you need more." Cody says, his face breaking into a smile.

Gwen, against all of her natural impulses, smiles a little. Though she wouldn't admit it, she was kind of (sort of) flattered by Cody's praises.

In the silence as he sees Gwen's small smile, he asks again, "So what's bothering you?"

Sighing, Gwen truthfully answers, "Well, you see…I might have done something that was, was, uh…not so cool."

"Like what?"

"I'd rather not say, ok?"

Cody is silent for a few seconds. He truthfully wants to press the mater but knows he shouldn't. So, after standing up, Cody says, "If you ever want to talk about it, whatever your problem is, I'll be very willing to lend an ear and be willing to help however I can."

Looking at Cody, Gwen says quietly with a tiny growing smile, "I know. I appreciate it."

Cody then looks at Gwen and smiles back. Nether teen says anything for a few seconds.

But the shared silence ends when the plane's intercom crackles to life. After it does so, Chris' voice is heard as he announces, _"Good evening, Total Drama contestants! We have arrived at our destination, good old Nova Scotia! Please head out of the plane and follow Chef to the bus that'll bring you to the location of tod-uh, tonight's, challenge!"_

* * *

**CONFESSIONAL**

(Static)

"Wow…I never would have thought it was possible but, but I feel a little better now." Gwen admits, the look of genuine shock on her pale face. "Maybe I can turn to Cody?"

(Static)

**END OF CONFESSIONAL**

* * *

A few minutes after Chris' announcement, the nine teenage contestants had landed.

Thanks to the terrain of the landscape and the small size of the neighboring town, the teens had to get on a bus to travel to the town, from which they'd reach the location of their challenge by boat.

For much of the fairly brief bus ride, all that could be seen is the grey cotton candy fog. However, eventually, a mass of blackened spires and squares slowly began to materialize. Soon enough the skeletal outline of an entire town was visible to those approaching it. The vast huddle of sagging gambrel roofs and peaked gables conveyed with offensive clearness the idea of some wormy decay. As they descended down the long snaking roadway, the teens could see that many of the coal colored roofs were wholly caved in.

After the bus stopped in the middle of the town and the teens venture outward as they follow Chris and Chef towards the docks, they see this decay much more thoroughly.

What he sees has Duncan comment, mostly to himself, "Uh. Very post-apoca-lipstick." **[1]**

And to be fair to the Delinquent, his basic observation is very close to the reality of it.

The collapsing huddles of gambrel roofs that had been seen from the bus were far more noticeable as they walked along the cracked and unpaved streets. They formed a jagged and fantastic skyline, above which rose the ghoulish, decapitated steeple of an ancient church. About half of the houses were tightly boarded up while the other half was not. Many of those houses were now leaning, sinking at the foundations to be cast in perilous and incredible angles that representing all of the known angles of geometry. The endless line of blackened windows from these blackened buildings created the feeling of multiplying to create stretching city of stark desolation. The vibe of desolation was total.

And that vibe continues unfazed as they walked to a narrower section of land with a collection of small mountains on one-side.

Many buildings, including warehouses, meeting halls, and tackle shops among others, were built above the shallow water on stilts. The placing of such buildings here had freed up a narrow strip of flat land where the steep little mountains stopped just before the sea's salty edge. This level area was used to spread out thousands of splayed and salted cod, allowing it to dry in the open air. Or at least…it once had been used for that purpose.

But it wasn't used for that…not anymore.

The splaying and salting of thousands of cod ended almost thirty years ago…when there were no longer thousands of cod.

But that's not to say that the ground is empty of dead things from the sea. The decaying corpses of sea-creatures litter the streets, there decomposing husks of scale or shell finding themselves moving due to the efforts of worms, maggots, and flies within them.

People might have lived in these buildings that were linked infinites of black but they share their homes with the cobwebs, the flies, and the omnipresent conqueror worm.

In all of the streets no other living thing is visible, and the teens wonder at the complete absence of cats and dogs from this town. And that is the word of the day it seemed, absence. So much of this old cod-fishing town has absences of so many different sorts. Even the best-preserved buildings, which only looked mildly decayed, share this.

Furtiveness and secretiveness seem universal in this hushed city of alienage and death.

This town is a rock of tradition, partially eaten away by the relentless dripping of modern times that isn't enriched by the dripping but instead bringing it closer to its slow death.

As the teens follow the two adults, they notice the area they are heading towards, the shoreline. Here and there the ruins of wharves jut out from the shore to end in indeterminate rottenness as they entered more of the sea, the farthest south seeming the most decayed. The slow eccentric tide lulled the tethered boats, producing a wet moan of **sleps** as they continue to kiss the wooden docks against their will.

While the eleven people were stepping into a fine modern speedboat one by one, some of them noticed a lone figure that is emerging from one of the houses towards them.

He is a sickly looking old man in tattered clothes that blew in the wind, with each individual tattered end flapping and flying in different and haphazard directions. By the time he was about to reach the dock, Chef got the motor to just start running and is in the process of untying the boat from the dock.

**PR-PRUT!**

"Don't g-" The old man attempts to see to those leaving, only to be have his words overpowered by the motorboat's **PRUT!**

"Please for the God st-" **PRUT! PRUT! BRRR! SLURP! SLURP! BRRRRRBRRRRLALALABRRRRRBRRRRR!**

Finding his aged vocal cords unable to compete with the state of the art technology, the old man put everything he could into his final warning while hoping they would hear it.

"FIND THE HIDDEN PATHWAY ON THE FIFTH FLOOR NEAR ROOM SIXTY-FOUR! AND AVIOD THE SIXTH FLOOR!"

**BRRRRRBRRRRLALALABRRRRRBRRRRR!**

Soon the echo of the old man's cries clashes with the roar of the modern boat's motor. Again, the modern surpasses the old as the motorboat travels into the thick eldritch fog.

* * *

Though the cries of the old man aren't heard anymore, they linger in the minds of some of the teens. Of these teens, the one who dwells on them the most is Gwen.

What could he have meant? And why did he feel the need to tell them that gibberish?

**KABOOM! **

The Goth's thoughts end when the cracking of the thunder roars over her teal-haired head. But within a single second it isn't just her eyes that became overpowered.

Vivid flashes of lightning dazzle her eyes, illuminating the water, making it appear like a vast sheet of fire. For an instant afterwards everything seems a hopeless darkness. But when that instant ends her eyes recover from the preceding flash of grand natural might.

After how many similar flashes she didn't know, Gwen and the others reach the island.

Once off the boat all eleven of the people stare at the rocky, still-green cliffs of the isle.

Then Gwen sees something else, a small mass of grey and white among green and brown.

Quickly, Gwen knew what she saw. She saw...a sea gull, with its neck snapped and its body splayed out over one of many small natural ledges that litter the Cliffside.

It was wretched and smashed, lying on the stone like a bloodied shuttlecock. The gull's blood cakes the rocks below it, creating a flash of vivid red amid the dull brown-green.

Gwen oddly remembers how she doesn't like sea gulls. They were barely even birds to her, just barely not the famed "rats with wings" many call them. Most of the time they flew just hover your head, hovering and hoping to steal some food you bring with you. And that's when they weren't doing what nature meant for them… scavengers of the sea. They are often the hungry screams of a slaughterhouse chorus dressed in mangy feathers.

Even so, Gwen feels horrified by seeing the corpse of this creature. She might have been a Goth but that didn't mean she takes any pleasure in death. She is eager to move away.

Thankfully for her, she and the others move up a stone stairway craved into the cliffs.

After hundreds if not thousands of stone steps, the Goth and the others reach the top. From there, they all travel through a dirt pathway surrounded by twisting tree trunks. Amid the branches above their heads the teens hear rustling of leafs and the fluttering of feathered wings, they see a flock of crows leaving the trees…they see a murder of crows.

With the caws of the crows ringing in their ears, the eleven people stop at a structure.

And teens stare up in all at the structure; its imposing mass appears to be a cross between a stereotypical castle of Gothic literature and an art deco skyscraper from the early twentieth century. Given her artistic knowledge and interest, Gwen understands this better than any of the other ten people with her. But what has Gwen's attention more than the building itself is the massive gate door that is open just enough for someone to fit through. After noting that, she and the others look at the area around this large building.

There is a brief gap in the thick, charnel storm clouds, allowing the thin, milk light of the still mostly hidden moon to slip through and project themselves on the teens' faces. Even so, through the gap in the clouds, they could see that the moon was a shaved quarter, like it is a lunar silvering sickle.

There is a gallery of granite statues, ranging from horned fawns to stalking lions that were submerged to varying degrees in depths of debris and currents of creeper. It is a truly melancholic sight. Most of the visible parts of the grey statues are streaked in muddled white with bird droppings. Their eyes are a darkened soiled black, rendered sullen and eroded by both the rain and the sorrow for tears they couldn't shed.

Whereas the plants covering the ground elsewhere on this island are a healthy emerald green, the grass clawing and thrusting its way through the crumbling tiles of abandoned asylum's outmost rooms is a spiteful black and look sharp enough to cut their hands.

As they stand and absorb all of these details of this place, wuthered winds comb the teenagers' hair, whether it was teal highlights, chestnut bangs, green Mohawk, or long locks of raven black.

The teens feel cold, and it's not just because of the wind. This whole place, whatever it was, has this horrible and ominous feel to it, as if it is clinging to the very air itself.

Having taken in enough of the gloomy sights, Cody finally brakes the shared silence and asks the waiting host, "W-wh-what is this place?"

"This is the **Cornwall Heights Hospital** and it's the location of your next challenge." Chris announces. "Cuckoo Cuckoo G'Joob!"** [2]**

All of the teenagers groaned, some for the lyrics from _The Beatles_ Chris just butchered.

"We just did a challenge focusing on scares! Why another one!?" Heather angrily shouts.

"I just love seeing you kids freak out." Chris replies bluntly with a grin. The host savors the mad scowl on the Queen Bee's face before doing what he loved most, himself talking. "Besides, this place, unknown to anyone but the local townspeople until now, has a backstory which would give good ol' Jack the Ripper a run for his blood soaked money."

Hearing this peaks everyone's interests, in particular Gwen's, due to her knowledge of Jack the Ripper.

"Now then, thanks to the diligent efforts of my interns, thanks to my superior example," Chris continues, eliciting another wave of groans from him once again praising himself, "I will be able to reveal to the world at large the true story of this abandoned asylum."

"An a-as…a-slam-ham?" Owen frightfully asks.

Chris looked both shocked and annoyed by the interruption. "No, Owen, asylum. A-sy-lum. You know, a place for crazy people."

"Oh." Owen says.

"Anyway, this asylum was finished being build on this vacant island around mid-1943." Chris continues. "It was purchased from the Canadian government by **Dr. Francis Cornwall**, a esteemed Canadian psychologist who was extremely independently wealthy thanks to very prosperous family line that reached all the way back to the time of the American Revolution. Dr. Cornwall was married shortly before construction began to an American woman who became Ellie Stadenford-Cornwall. At the same time they were building this asylum, a luxurious mansion, the one to my left, was also built right here."

"Why would anyone put a house right next to an asylum full of crazies? That's like, an accident waiting to happen." Duncan says with a darkly joking smirk on his face.

Gwen, in between bouts of chortling, agrees with the Delinquent.

"Ah, how right you, are Duncan." Chris says, allowing his annoyance at the interruption to slide since that brought him nicely to his next point. "But the good doctor was so committed to his work that he would allow nothing less, despite his wife's clashing views on the matter. Anyway, for the three years it was up and running, the Cornwall Heights Hospital was home to some of the vilest criminally insane people from both Canada and America that the 1940s had to offer. Thanks to the through security precautions and the staff having living quarters here, contact with the outside world was very rare. At the three-year anniversary of its being opened, mid 1946, the reasons why were discovered."

Chris paused, allowing the information he just said to sink into the teenagers' heads.

"Wa-what…what happened?" Gwen finally asks.

"Patience Gwen, you'll find out." Chris says, displaying that knowing, smug smile of his. "You see; this asylum had a cutting edge security system to ensure the staff's safety each night. Every night there would be a total asylum lockdown, more akin to an actual prison. But, for reasons that no one knows, one night at exactly **9:06 PM**, something went wrong. Somehow, one of the most dangerous wackos escaped from his cell. He released the others. Very quickly there was a full-scale riot and inmates killed all of the staff, Dr. Cornwall and his wife included, since the defenses of their private mansion failed them. Of the couple hundred of inmates and doctors on the island, only two somehow escaped, one inmate and one doctor. They were both brought before the local town's police. Despite being so different, both of them confirmed this course of events. The next morning the police went to island and discovered that all of the inmates were dead. It seems that they all killed themselves after killing the asylum's facility. The escaped inmate also killed himself. In less than twenty four hours, hundreds of people had died."

For a few minutes, the wailing of the winds is the only sound. All else is dead silent.

All of the teens, even Duncan, Heather, and Alejandro, are horrified to the core.

* * *

**CONFESSIONAL**

(Static)

"Ok, even though I'm all over the dark stuff…I'm starting to question Chris' choices of locales!" Gwen says scared. "I mean, what places are next on his itinerary of insanity? Cambodia's Killing Fields? H.H. Holmes' "Murder Castle"? Freaking Auschwitz!?"

(Static)

Chris is seen with a pad of paper and a pen. He's tapping his chin with that same pen.

"Um, those might not be bad ideas? Maybe we can change a few of the later stops?"

(Static)

**END OF CONFESSIONAL**

* * *

Finally, Courtney brakes the silence by asking, "Ba-but, that doesn't answer what was going on before this riot? What was happening here?"

Chris, continuing to get off mentally at the fear in the teenagers' faces, answers with, "Good job realizing that, Courtney. Well, as I said, the escaped inmate and doc told the local police everything, with their stories matching up perfectly to an unnerving degree. What they both described makes on recall the horrors of the Nazi death camp Auschwitz, fashioning Dr. Cornwall as an American Dr. Joseph Mengele, in the generalist sense. For those of you who don't know what that means, meaning most of you, that means Cornwall and the other docs would commit **horrific experiments** on **still living people! **

"Really nasty stuff too, it seems. Electroshocks and frontal lobotomies a plenty for many! And what often constituted a lobotomy was taking a patient, shocking them into unconsciousness, taking a rod that looked like an icepick, driving it into one of their eye sockets with a hammer, moving it back and forth to scrape away little bits of brain, and then doing it all over again with other eye socket. Oh, and did I forget to mention, that was standard practice for most mental asylums of the time." **[3]**

Chris stopped for a moment, savoring the looks of horror, before continuing by saying, "Yup. And so when you say that what Cornwall did offended people, now you've got some context. Anyway, here are some horrors unique to the Cornwall Heights Hospital. Some patents had their teeth removed, followed by other body parts: gall bladders, stomachs, a lung here and a kidney there, and, uh…certain body parts I can't say on TV. Others got to know what it felt like to undergo brain surgery, without any painkillers and still being awake the entire time. One guy was strapped down for so long that his skin had begun to grow over his restraints while a few others were chained up for months on end. Many of the other experiments included things like craving off skin, drowning, burning, and being blinding due to being strapped to chairs while their eyes were forced open and a powerful light was shined directly in front of them, among many, many more." **[4]**

Again, there is silence. Even the darker in terms of personality contestants like Duncan and Heather are unnerved by such a history.

* * *

**CONFESSIONAL**

(Static)

"Wow…and I thought I had heard horror stories in Juive." Duncan says, a little unnerved. Then, he steels himself with his perfected tough-guy persona. "Whatever, man. That happened ages ago. It sucked hard for the loonies but at least it won't happen to me."

(Static)

**END OF CONFESSIONAL**

* * *

"Anyway, as you can imagine, that occurrence and what it revealed unnerved the locals greatly. So much so they have developed just the cutest, quaintest little ghosts stories!" Chris continues, not caring at all for how very condescending he was being to the locals. "According to their legends, on the anniversary of when all hell broke loose, at 9:06 PM, some ghosts of the inmates and doctors are said to return to the realm of the living. And were going to see if that is the case! 'Cause tonight, you're going in the haunted asylum!"

Cody, Courtney, Sierra, Tyler, Owen, and even Heather all look up at the building, feeling a little tense about it. All but two of these teens sucked it up their courage.

Gwen, noticing one of the two who is still scared and wishing that wasn't the case, starts padding one of his bulging and lumpy arms. "Here, here, Owen. Its gonna be okay. You know Chris; he likes to make things sound worse than they are for ratings. I bet there's nothing but unpaid interns in cheap costumes and second-rate carnival special effects."

Owen smiles at Gwen…before giving her a well-intentioned but bone-crushing hug.

Staring at the scene with a raised eyebrow, Heather didn't see the tan hand approaching her, before it taps her on the shoulder. The Queen Bee nearing jumped out of her skin!

When she heard laughter barely being repressed, she turned around glaring to see who had tapped her shoulder.

"My, my Heather, I didn't mean to startle you. After all, you look like you've seen a ghost. No pun intended, of course." Alejandro says, with a sly smile on his tan face.

"Oh har har! Very funny! Tell me, did you think of that riveting one all by yourself?" Heather says back as sarcastically as she could muster.

"Now, now. There's no need to worry, it's nothing to be scared of. Sure, it may be a creepy rundown asylum of all places, but there's nothing inside of it...at least I hope not."

"Shut it you! I'm not scared! Go bother someone else!"

"Very well. Just trying to let you feel at ease…while you still can, that is." As he leaves Heather's sight, Alejandro has an evil smirk on his face unseen by any of the others.

"Alright! Everyone into the asylum's lobby! Once there, I'll explain today's challenge!" Christ announces.

One by one, the nine teenagers follow him into the asylum, despite their fears and doubts.

* * *

**CONFESSIONAL**

(Static)

"Argh! That tears it! After I get Sierra and Courtney out of the game…Al's going next!" Heather angrily snaps at the camera.

(Static)

"Part of me was hoping that Heather would have been eliminated by this point. Given her, um, turbulent, relations with her teammates, it should have happened by now. But maybe I can grease the wheels a little? She seems spooked by this place. Maybe I can have her visited by a few ghosts, other than the ones on Chris' figurative payroll?" Alejandro says before rubbing his chin in thought with an unpleasant spreading smile.

(Static)

"Why it is that before entering this asylum the words that came to my mind were **"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here"**?" Gwen asks, citing _The Divine Comedy_.

The Goth has no way of knowing her confessional will be the last one ever recorded.

(Static)

**END OF CONFESSIONAL**

* * *

Inside of the asylum's lobby, the teenagers see more evidence of this place being a place where what was at the time modern art deco and old-fashioned gothic designs merged. The many symmetrical patterns of geometric forms of aluminum and chrome splashing in what were once vivid colors of art deco shares space with the pointed arches, large rose windows, and rib vaults of the gothic traditions' coarse limestone and Purbeck marble.

In the fifty plus years since everyone who had been here died, the gothic reigns supreme.

Once glorious antique Axminster carpets even in the 1940s have become annexed by the marches of mosses and the footsteps of fungus, as they did many of the once stainless steel shapes that covered some of the walls with a more art deco bent to them.

From both above and below, beads of blood red glare at the eleven entering humans. From above, portraits long obliterated had their faded eyes of paint side by side with the shining beady rubies of roosting bats. From below, ruby-eyed rats were nestled together in the mangled rubble of a great crashed chandelier that has become the unintended centerpiece of the asylum's lobby.

With the bats and rats watching them without their noticing, the teens listen to Chris as he explains to them the nature of tonight's challenge. The challenge would be the teams traveling through the five lower levels of the asylum in search of three objects from Dr. Cornwall's person. Of course, there is more to it than just that. Thanks to planted timers, the doors separating each floor will close after a given amount of time. If the teens are on the next floor by the time the installed sirens finish blaring they will be trapped on that floor for the remainder of the night. The winner of the challenge will sleep in the restored beds of the mansion while the losers will remain in the asylum. Needless to say there is a lot of incentive to win this particular challenge.

But before that, there is a mini-challenge before the main event. Each team will search this first floor for an object, a rolled up scroll with a sticker of Chris' face on it. As always, Chris is vague about what the benefit of this will be so the teens simply spread out and search for the scroll.

With hardly a spoken word, the nine teenagers spilt off to find this scroll.

* * *

"Argh! Where the hell is this damn scroll!?" Heather shouts angrily.

Like the others, Heather has been searching the rooms of this ground level lobby for far too long. She is starting to believe that there is no scroll here and Chris is just playing another one of his cruel jokes on her and the others.

Regardless, Heather keeps looking, stumbling upon one of the few patient rooms on this floor. Looking inside it, she sees the bed, the mattress with bed sheets that are like an aged yellowed sea, rippling with cloth currents and curves.

As Heather finds that her feet are suddenly killing her; she decides to lie down on the bed, despite finding it slightly repulsive. But at least it was a real bed for a change.

Forgetting about the challenge, at least for only a few minutes, Heather rests on the bed.

While resting with her eyes closed, Heather hears something…some soft footsteps. She can ignore them at first but soon the tapping of feet on tiles becomes too much to ignore.

Without waiting for the footsteps to stop and keeping her eyes closed, Heather says, "Go away, whoever you are! You had your chance to get a bed! There are a few more out there! So go find your own!"

The footsteps don't stop. And as they slowly approach the bed, Heather hears whispering. Though unable to make out the exact language being whispered but it sounds like Spanish. That is enough for Heather; she knows that this has to be the work of Alejandro!

"Go away you pathetic excuse for a Latino! Even though I don't think very much of you, even I never thought you'd resort to such a sad attempt at scaring me. Quit it already!" Heather says, very annoyed.

The hushed whispering continues. Though she doesn't want to admit it or show it, Heather was starting to get a little uncomfortable. She decides to end these feelings.

"Are you deaf Alejandro? I said, get out of here you fu-!" Heather shouts angrily as she opens her eyes and sits up straight…only to stop mid-shout when she sees what's there.

Nothing.

There is no one standing in front of her. There are no sounds of anyone running away, no indications of anyone hiding with haste. There is no sign of anyone else having entered.

Now truly uncomfortable, Heather starts to manically work her way through the thick bed sheets to leave the room. While doing so, she feels something on one of the lower corners. Puzzled, she grabs the something, which was a long and rolled up something.

Unrolling the object in her hands, Heather sees there is stuff on both sides of the paper. On one side there are many vague riddles while the other side has a sticker of Chris' face.

Very quickly, Heather realizes what it is that she is holding. She has found the scroll!

The feelings of being uncomfortable are forgotten as she runs to show Chris the scroll.

If she had stood there a few more seconds, those feelings would have returned in full.

Despite they're being **no one** in the room; the whispering voices continue to whisper.

* * *

After the host sees the scroll he confirms it to be it and calls everyone to the main lobby. With everyone there, Chris reveals what it is that Heather found and is currently holding.

The scroll that Heather found contains riddles that hint at the locations of many pieces of paper. Floors two through four all have two pieces of paper that come together to show the object they are hunting for and its location on the fifth floor. Unlike Team Chris, Team Amazon can search for both pieces of paper on the same floor at the same time. In contrast, Team Chris is given one scarp of paper with only one riddle to start off a chain leading to another object. Team Chris would have to search for one piece at a time.

With Team Chris seething at the disadvantage and Team Amazon cheering over it, Chris pronounces that within three minutes the challenge proper will begin and both teams will head to the second level. In that time, Chris lays on a few more last minute revelations. Firstly, a team must find the pieces of paper on second floor to proceed to the third floor and then they must find paper pieces on the fourth floor. Secondly, neither team is strapped to the object they are currently heading towards; if Team Chris can steal the scroll, then they can not only have the means of finding the quicker object but also keep Team Amazon from having any clues at all.

Team Chris, in particular Alejandro and Duncan, look very pleased with these reveals.

By the time Chris finishes explaining all of this, the three minutes are up. The host officially begins the challenge and starts to walk out of the lobby towards the mansion.

* * *

With what seems to be no choice in the manner, the teens, spilt into the two teams, began venturing through and down corridors that twisted like intestines, winding ever deeper into the decaying mass of this once-stately and artistically awe-inspiring building, now nothing but a bleak and ghastly carcass that haven't felt footsteps in over fifty years.

Though all of them are unnerved, for reasons she couldn't know, one is even more so.

As Gwen traveled through the darkened corridors, she had many unsettling thoughts. She thought of this place's history, of the lives that were ruined here while being unacknowledged for the majority of their here…if not the totality of their time here. She thought of how the physical evidence of those ruined lives, the bodies of both victim and victimizer, had decayed and denied the living much of the most gripping proof of them.

She thought of the dead sea gull she saw, and how she hoped its spirit had long since escaped. Were the spirits of the humans who were only here as lucky? Gwen hoped so.

Gwen was wrong. Dead wrong.

Amongst the foundations of the world, the very bedrock of all human existence, are those who have passed on into death's unavoidable embrace content? Do they live in an inescapable realm of pleasant dreams or nightmares? For those souls who got that hug at Cornwell's Arms Hospital, there was an identical agreement…it was one of nightmares.

This place, this prison, by some eldritch criminal necromancy, had not been allowed to spiritually decay. Something unknowable to any of the living festered within these walls. Its will was destined to become manifest, to tear asunder all of their rational notions. Even now, the progress had begun. With no bangs, the dark energies were resurfacing. The decomposition was running in reverse…towards a new and strange birth, a dark birth.

This abandoned asylum was to be a womb, for a dark, aged litter already birthed once.

Gwen was wrong. **Dead wrong.**

* * *

**And there you have it! I hope you enjoyed this chapter of horror on the day of love. ;) **

**Some of you might be wondering why I focused nearly entirely on Team Amazon. Without giving any spoilers about what's to come, let me explain myself. Of the two teams, Team Amazon is simply the one that has the most stuff going on to play with. After thinking about it, the only dynamics at work on Team Chris are the same ones that were on the show: Duncan threatening Tyler, Tyler being very worried, Al manipulating everyone unbelievably, and Owen being, well, Owen. Not much to use. Now Team Amazon, on the other hand, has at least two huge things going on, Gwen's conflicted feeling about kissing Duncan behind Courtney's back and both Gwen and Courtney being pretty much friends. These two things leave a lot open. And not just the obvious of what will Gwen do and will Courtney find out. There's also the question of Heather, who finds herself the odd girl out without any allies. And of her Amazon teammates, Cody seems to be the one who is: the one she hates the least, the only one who could possibly listen to her, and the only one who has incentive to seek help (to finally get rid of Sierra). **

**Now, as you might have guessed, the supernatural elements of this story are stirring. I don't now if this is going to be the case for certain or not I think the next chapter will be when things start to get nasty…and people start dying. But I'm unsure. The proof of if that's the case or not will be if this story is rated M at the next update. **

**[1] The phrase, "post-apoca-lipstick", comes from the video game **_**Spec Ops: The Line.**_** I have wanted to bring up this game (and use this particular quote) for what feels like ages now! But why, you may be asking yourselves? Very simply, even though I've never played the game…I FREAKING LOVE THIS GAME! And the reason I love it so much is because it's a game that goes completely against the kind of game it is while making much bigger statements. Let me explain myself, ok? It's a third person shooter, with gameplay mechanics very similar to those of any old run-of-the-mill Call of Duty, Battlefield, or Medal of Honor flooding the game industry. However, the story and its progression is a smart and scathing indictment of modern action shooters that shows just how fundamentally psychotic and divorced from reality the entire genre is, even when they are often labeled as "realistic" shooters! I want to reveal what happens but I won't. But I will say…it has balls! Believe me, I'm fighting a very powerful urge to write a full-on multi-page explanation of this game because its so fascinating and touching on so many very interesting topics of discussion. But I'll give you the first breadcrumb on a trail to discovering why I've devoted such a big footnote to it and wanting to add more. Please go to Youtube and type in the words "zero punctuation spec ops the line". This review is spoiler-free and what got me interested in this masterpiece. Go to it! **

**[2] What Chris is referring here is one of the lyrics from the song **_**I Am the Walrus**_** by The Beatles. The actual lyric is "goo goo g'joob". To me, making a pun of this odd lyric into the title of this challenge is both corny and something Chris would do. And it felt oddly fitting since the previous challenge took place in London. **

**[3] As horrifying as it is, I'm not lying when I say that this was standard operating practice for asylums back then! Even though, it wasn't always that way in asylums. The lobotomy was first used on humans in the 1888 but it was discontinued for forty-five years thanks to controversy and questions about its effectiveness. But after some successful tests on chimpanzees in 1933, the lobotomy was back. The same two people that had tested on the chimps, neurologist Antonio Egas Moniz and neurosurgeon Pedro Almeida Lima preformed the first lobotomy on a human (a woman with manic-depression) on November 12th, 1935. The procedure they used was rendering the person unconscious by anesthesia**, **then trepanning (removing small sections of skull) on both sides of the head, and finally injecting absolute alcohol into the holes to destroy the parts of the brain they wanted to. This took thirty minutes. Later they used a blunt spatula to do the job, also in thirty minutes. However, some doctors thought that thirty minutes was too long and a shorter method for using lobotomies was in order. The problem was that darn skull. How could they get around it? Neurologist Walter Jackson Freeman II (inspired by Italian efforts) came up with an answer…the eyes! They'd go through the eye sockets! The first lobotomy to do so in America, preformed by him, took place on January 17th, 1945 and did the job in ten minutes. And what did they use for this? An icepick. And I don't mean something that looked like an icepick, they used a real icepick! It wasn't until 1948 that they had a surgical instrument for this purpose. Oh, and instead of anesthesia the person being operated on was knocked out with electric shocks. To this day, the effectiveness of lobotomies in helping people deal with mental illnesses has been highly controversial and greatly debated ever since. **

**[4] And you thought I was done scaring you with historical truths about asylums right? Well…your wrong buddy! But this time, I will be talking about a specific asylum, The New Jersey State Lunatic Asylum (now Trenton Psychiatric Hospital) under the rule of Dr. Henry Cotton. Starting in 1907, his rule of this asylum had an odd duality to it. On the one hand, he had a very progressive attitude towards the caring of his patients, doing measures like getting rid of mechanical restraints, introducing occupational therapy, ensuring that nurses would prevent violence against the patients, and instituting daily staff meetings about patient care. But…despite all of these good things, a theory about mental illness that Cotton believed in would turn this progressive hospital into a real-life house of horrors. In 1913, after it was confirmed that bacterium that causes syphilis also causes the disease's psychiatric symptoms, Cotton started to think that ALL mental illness was caused by bodily infections. And this lead to the idea that the only way to truly cure people's mental disorders was to remove the parts of body that were somehow infected. Ten years after he started running The New Jersey State Lunatic Asylum, 1917, Dr. Cotton started removing patient's teeth, even in cases where X-Rays showed no evidence of infection. Soon Dr. Cotton didn't limit his removals to teeth, adding to his list of removable body parts: gall bladders, stomachs, ovaries, testicles, tracts of colon, and uteruses. As you can guess, a lot of the patients died because of this, even though Cotton claimed that 85% of those he operated on ended up cured. Now, do you want to know the scariest part of this whole story with Henry Cotton? He didn't do this in secret! The whole of society knew about it and didn't stop it! Cotton published papers and gave presentations on his work. Any efforts to stop him were small or ineffective. Because of this, he continued until retiring in 1930. He ended up dying three years after he left The New Jersey State Lunatic Asylum. And do you want a little twist to this whole twisted tale? After he died, the **_**New York Times**_**, local newspapers, and international professional publications all lauded him as a pioneer of humane patient treatment despite the hundreds of people that died!**

**Now, given what I revealed about my classes at the start of this chapter, this should be obvious but I'll say it anyway. It's going to be a LONG time until the next chapter. I humbly ask if everyone just be patent until whenever the next one comes. **

**Until the next chapter, whenever it might be, please: read, review, alert, favor, and spread the word!**


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